Her Escape
by SereneCalamity
Summary: Sometimes things got too much for Betty. That was where he came in. Barchie. Oneshot.


_I did not ship these two together at all in the first seasons, and then the first few episodes of the second season. I definitely shipped them together in the comics, though, since I was little. So I decided to write a little something, which is centered in the show verse._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own the characters._

Elizabeth Cooper heard a creak as her foot reached the second to last step of the staircase. She winced and froze in her path, looking over her shoulder, back up the stairs, but she didn't hear anything, so she quickly took the last few steps and then carefully picked her way across the floor—knowing all the spots with creaks and aches—and got to the front door. She unlocked it, slipped outside and locked it behind her, her eyes going to the road down the bottom off the drive way.

And there he was.

Betty felt the tension that had been pulling at her stomach ebb slightly as she picked up her pace, purple converses slapping against the pavement. She pulled open the passenger door of the red pick-up truck, and got in, careful not to slam it behind her, not wanting to make too much noise.

"You alright?" Archie Andrews asked, one hand resting on the steering wheel and the other braced against the back of her seat. Betty jerked her head in a single nod, not replying verbally, and Archie didn't push her to say anything. He didn't reach out to touch her either, instead turning his attention to the road, turning the truck on and pulling away from the curb and starting down the road.

It was almost midnight, and the roads of Riverdale were silent. Archie was playing music, but it was turned right down low, and Betty couldn't pick out what band it was. She appreciated that he wasn't talking or asking her any questions, but then again, she had never considered that he would, because it was _Archie_. He knew what she wanted and what she needed often before she did herself.

It had been Archie who had text her a few hours ago, asking if she wanted to go out to Sweetwater River to get a break from her family. Obviously, he had been picking up in the past couple of days that it was all getting on top of her.

Polly Cooper was the middle child in the Coopers, and she was currently six months pregnant to the sons of the most wealthy family in Riverdale. Betty used to get on well with Polly, and she still loved her and felt closest to her in the family, but Polly was barely ever around anymore, spending most of her time with Jason Blossom. Betty couldn't blame her. They were in love, and they were about to have twins together, and the Cooper household could be toxic—it was no wonder she wanted to be away as much as possible.

Chic Cooper was the eldest child, and he had been born when her parents were in high school. He was pretty much the only reason that her parents were still together now, most people in the community knew it. He had dropped out of school at seventeen and taken off, and the only times the family ever really heard from him was on birthdays and Christmas. It had been nearly two years since they had even seen him. Last thing that Betty had seen on his Facebook was that he was somewhere in Greece with a couple of pretty girls.

There was her father, Hal Cooper, who felt more like some distant uncle than a father. He pretty much lived at his news office in town, and just a few months ago, Betty had found out that he was cheating on her mother. She hadn't told her mother yet, because she couldn't help but wonder if she already _knew_ and was just pretending that it wasn't happening, so she could keep up this sham that she called a perfect marriage.

Then there was Alice Cooper, who demanded perfection from everyone around her, _especially_ her youngest daughter, who she had pinned all of her hopes and dreams on, given her older two had 'fallen from grace'. She had always envisioned herself as being so much more than the owner of the local paper in the small town that she had grown up in, and her resentment toward her children was almost as great as her resentment toward her husband.

Which was where Betty came in.

Betty _had_ to do better.

Betty _had_ to be perfect.

Betty had to dress the right way, act the right way, get immaculate grades, ignore boys and restrict time with friends—because those were just a distraction—keep her eye on the prize, make sure her weight was down, be smart but not act like a smart ass, talk the right way, be quiet but not boring—the list was endless and sometimes it got too much for Betty.

Which was where Archie came in.

The boy next door.

Her best friend.

Her boyfriend, although that wasn't public knowledge.

Betty swallowed hard, trying to keep her breathing controlled, forcing herself not to turn her hands into fists and dig her nails into her palms. It was a control tactic, the pain kept her grounded, and she knew it wasn't healthy, but sometimes it was all she could do to stop herself from screaming at her mother, screaming at her absent father, scream at the reflection that she saw in the mirror. The pills that were prescribed for her by the doctor helped, but she couldn't take them too often or else she would need repeats, and then her mother would start asking why she needed to go to the pharmacy so often. She hadn't even _wanted_ to talk to her doctor about her anxiety in the first place, but Archie had convinced her that even though she was strong, a little extra help wouldn't hurt. He had been right.

The road had turned bumpy, given Archie had left the main, gravel road and was now on a rough side one. They were surrounded by trees and darkness, with the headlights of Archie's truck the only thing that was lighting their way. Soon, the truck was slowing down and Betty was jerking off her seat belt and opening the door before the engine was even turned off. She almost tripped in her haste to get out of the truck. Archie was slower, letting her get some distance between them.

Her shoes were going to be dirty, she noted as she walked quickly through the damp ground, feet sinking into the mud, but right now she wasn't going to think about how she would need to explain that to her mother. The forest thinned out slightly and suddenly she was walking on stones rather than mud. Sweetwater River was running peacefully, given there hadn't been any recent rainfalls to make it rush down stream, and that almost made Betty feel guilty about what she was going to do—bad that she was going to disrupt the peaceful scene.

But then she felt angry, because she had no reason to feel bad.

That was the whole reason they _came here_.

For her to let off steam.

She was forced to be quiet and demure and ignore what she wanted almost every other step of her life, this moment was _hers_.

Betty opened her mouth and screamed.

She screamed and screamed and screamed.

She screamed until her throat was sore and the scream was coming out hoarse, and then she kept on screaming.

Betty stumbled backwards when she finished, all that tension and anger and anxiety that she had felt filling her body, curling around her heart and squeezing her stomach, slowly leave her. Her fingers were loose and her chest was heaving, and she kept stumbling backwards until she felt a sturdy chest behind her, and strong arms go around her waist.

Archie.

She hadn't even realized that she had started crying at some point. She wasn't anymore, but the tears were on her face, and the night breeze was making them cool on her cheeks. Archie held her tightly, breathing deeply so that his chest expanded and then fell against her back, forcing her to try and match the pattern, making her catch her breath. She wasn't shaking this time, usually with the tears came shaking, and she viewed that as a good thing.

"Just one more year," Archie whispered in her ear. "Just one more year and then we're gone." Betty didn't respond, but Archie knew that she agreed. Knew that couldn't wait to get out of this town with Archie and just drive until they were somewhere else.

Somewhere safe.

"I love you," Archie told her, his voice soft and making her loose body feel warm. She had room for that now. With all the frustration and pent up fury gone, she had room for Archie and for love. She couldn't quite smile, but she leaned her head heavily against his chest and her arms—which had been hanging limply at her sides—shifted, one of her hands clasping down tightly over his.

"I love you too."

 _Let me know what you think x_


End file.
